A hint of a spark
Watching the previous episodes Confidential not so much a good idea especially since the Donna music video had Death Cab for Cutie's I will follow you into the dark playing and I teared up all the way through. It didn't have that effect on me the last time but now I'm all teary.
And now I have the song playing on loop.
The Life fic I'm writing just turned sappy. I mean, incredibly, cavity inducing emo sort of sappy. I had to stop because at any given moment I feel Reese will suddenly emerge from the pages and brain me. Also, I tried my hand on a Marshall/Dani story... its not really working out. I'm uncertain with Marshall's voice, he's starting to sound like Charlie than Marshall. Charlie's miffed.
The Dani story is... I really feel I'm close to finishing it. I'm just going to trim the one section I'm having trouble with. It didn't turn out as I imagined. I just hope the story works.
Maybe I'll do a WIP amnesty post. I have a lot of WIP in my folder and maybe if I let them air out it'll help me finish at least one. Most are crossovers. I have a thing for crossovers.
Oh, here's a drive-by rec: It's untitled but its an interesting piece and very in character but each chapter is titled, begins at Sex and Death: A Kind of History and continues on to the second chapter: Happy Birthday Charlie Crews and the Way Back by 15lbpurebunny
She knew her partner well enough to know he liked to remind her of things she’d said previously, especially if there was any shred, any hint of discrepancy or hypocrisy. At first, she just figured it was a zen requirement. Later, as she got to know him more, she started to see a subtle passive aggression to this habit. A white hot anger, just below the surface that desired…. no… that demanded a certain level of accountability. What was that thing about giving his ex the horse? Leaving it on her lawn as an “anniversary present.” She overheard Patrolman Zerco talking about it at the coffee machine one afternoon in the break room. Now, THAT was a stunt, Reese thought. That was a stunt that was dripping with some serious nastiness. Some righteously bitter anger, a twisting of the knife disguised as an incredibly romantic, pure gesture. She had to hand it to him, it took balls to be that fractious. But, then, he seemed like he had nothing to lose since he’d come out of jail. She was wondering if the ex-wife got the full meaning of the subtext like she got it.
And now I have the song playing on loop.
The Life fic I'm writing just turned sappy. I mean, incredibly, cavity inducing emo sort of sappy. I had to stop because at any given moment I feel Reese will suddenly emerge from the pages and brain me. Also, I tried my hand on a Marshall/Dani story... its not really working out. I'm uncertain with Marshall's voice, he's starting to sound like Charlie than Marshall. Charlie's miffed.
The Dani story is... I really feel I'm close to finishing it. I'm just going to trim the one section I'm having trouble with. It didn't turn out as I imagined. I just hope the story works.
Maybe I'll do a WIP amnesty post. I have a lot of WIP in my folder and maybe if I let them air out it'll help me finish at least one. Most are crossovers. I have a thing for crossovers.
Oh, here's a drive-by rec: It's untitled but its an interesting piece and very in character but each chapter is titled, begins at Sex and Death: A Kind of History and continues on to the second chapter: Happy Birthday Charlie Crews and the Way Back by 15lbpurebunny
She knew her partner well enough to know he liked to remind her of things she’d said previously, especially if there was any shred, any hint of discrepancy or hypocrisy. At first, she just figured it was a zen requirement. Later, as she got to know him more, she started to see a subtle passive aggression to this habit. A white hot anger, just below the surface that desired…. no… that demanded a certain level of accountability. What was that thing about giving his ex the horse? Leaving it on her lawn as an “anniversary present.” She overheard Patrolman Zerco talking about it at the coffee machine one afternoon in the break room. Now, THAT was a stunt, Reese thought. That was a stunt that was dripping with some serious nastiness. Some righteously bitter anger, a twisting of the knife disguised as an incredibly romantic, pure gesture. She had to hand it to him, it took balls to be that fractious. But, then, he seemed like he had nothing to lose since he’d come out of jail. She was wondering if the ex-wife got the full meaning of the subtext like she got it.